


Based On a True Story

by Ironfrost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Halloween, M/M, Movie Night, The Blair Witch Project - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2530337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironfrost/pseuds/Ironfrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Halloween, of course they should watch a scary movie. Even though Feuilly hates them. It'll be great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Based On a True Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thunder_rolled_a_six](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_rolled_a_six/gifts).



> A gift for the lovely unhooking-the-stars, hope you like it! 
> 
> Haven't written anything Bahorel/Feuilly-shippy for over a year, can you tell how rusty I am at it?
> 
> Unbeta'ed, feel free to yell at me for any errors. The story is based on true events of what happened when me and my friends watched this film when we were thirteen. (Also, I'm not sure whether or not I'm spoiling the "plot" of The Blair Witch Project here, but....fair warning, just in case.)

“Remind me again why we are doing this?”

Feuilly rolls his eyes as he shoves the movie into the DVD player. “Because it's Halloween, of course,” he explains. He grabs the bowl of popcorn on his way back to the sofa and throws himself down.

“Yeah, but you hate scary movies,” Bahorel says, helping himself to a handful of popcorn. Feuilly slaps his hand away.

“You could at least wait until I've started the film,” he says. “Besides, it's just The Blair Witch Project. It's not that scary.”

“Have you seen it before?” Bahorel asks, and laughs as Feuilly shakes his head. 

“Oh, this will be fun,” Bahorel says as he turns off the lights. 

 

Twenty minutes later Feuilly finally speaks again. He leans over towards Bahorel and mumbles

“This isn't actually based on a true story, is it?” 

Bahorel resists the urge to laugh, but with some difficulty. “No one is sure,” he somehow manages to say with a straight face and solemn voice. “They never found the people who made the movie again.”

Feuilly leans back and scoots down a bit on the sofa. 

“Oh.”

 

The first half of the film goes more or less smoothly. They're interrupted every three to five minutes by trick or treaters ringing the doorbell, which always leads to an intense battle of rock, paper, scissor to see who has to answer the door. Whenever Feuilly opens the door, he always gushes over how great the home-made costumes are, and the more elaborate a costume is, the more candy they get. Bahorel has a different approach; He just throws a handful of candy in the middle of the group of children and watch them fight over it before slamming the door shut.

“You're an asshole,” Feuilly comments after a particularly nasty fight breaks out on the porch over an actual full size Snickers bar. Bahorel laughs. 

“A proper fight is good for morale,” he says as he sits down again. Feuilly punches him in the arm.

“Good for morale,” he shrugs.

 

Later in the evening the stream of trick or treaters slows down until the doorbell stops ringing all together. At first they're relieved, because it means they won't have to stop the movie every other minute, but after a while they realise they miss the distractions. As the movie gets weirder and darker, both Feuilly and Bahorel find themselves scooting down on the sofa, both with a pillow covering their faces. 

“I seriously don't remember the fucking Blair Witch Project being this scary,” Bahorel says, burrowing his face in the pillow.

“Wimp,” Feuilly snorts, but soon after jumps as the tent on the screen starts shaking. The remaining popcorn ends up spread out on the floor. Bahorel laughs, and Feuilly punches him again. Both of them are now lying on the sofa, pillow covering their faces. 

“I hate this film,” Feuilly mutters.

 

Soon after the doorbell rings. 

“Thank FUCK!” Bahorel shouts and jumps up from the sofa. 

“No, it's my turn,” Feuilly says, trying to push Bahorel back into the sofa. As Bahorel is built like a freight train, and Feuilly mostly resembling a starving cat, that fight goes exactly as well as one would think, with Feuilly sprawled out on the floor. Bahorel snorts and throws a pillow at him as he goes to answer the door.

When he comes back, Feuilly is still on the floor, now clutching the pillow over his face.

“What are you doing?” Bahorel asks, looking at the ridiculous creature on the floor.

“I'm not getting up again, because getting up means I have to watch the rest of the movie,” Feuilly replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“There's only like fifteen minutes left,” Bahorel says. “You can do that.” 

But Feuilly only shakes his head. Bahorel laughs again, picks his friend up from the floor and drops him down on the sofa like it's the easiest thing in the world. Feuilly is still clutching the pillow, so Bahorel pokes him in the side. Feuilly twitches, but nothing more. The knuckles on his hands are white from straining. 

“It's not real, you know,” Bahorel says, voice uncharacteristically soft. “The movie. It's all fake.”

The hands let go a little. 

“The girl won an award for worst actress for this. Not surprising, the acting is shoddy as hell. She's been in an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and that's pretty much the most exciting part of her career since.”

Feuilly finally lets go of the pillow. He looks at Bahorel.

“Ugh... Fine,” he says. “Let's finish this fucking thing.”

Bahorel grins as he presses play.

 

Five minutes later Bahorel has confiscated all of the pillows, as Feuilly didn't manage more than thirteen seconds before hiding behind a pillow again. When someone on the screen screams, Feuilly jumps again, this time hiding behind Bahorel. After a while he peers out from over Bahorel's shoulder, and quickly dips down again. Bahorel says nothing, he only grips Feuilly's arm as he tries to steal a pillow.

“Oh, come on!” Feuilly whines. Bahorel smiles.

“Nope.”

Feuilly sighs heavily, and crawls back. He stays close enough that Bahorel can feel it every time he jumps.

“Oh crap,” Bahorel mutters after a few minutes. Feuilly turns slightly.

“What?” he says, voice alarmed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says as the characters on screen walks into a house. “I just remembered how this ends.”

Feuilly's eyes widen. 

“Maybe you shouldn't....” Bahorel starts, before covering Feuilly's eyes with his hand as the screen shows a finger nail embedded in a wall. Feuilly first scoffs, since Bahorel usually never cares for Feuilly's mental well-being like this, but when the screaming starts up again, he puts his own hands over Bahorel's hand, making sure it doesn't move. Bahorel only holds him closer.

“I am never, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER seeing this film again,” Bahorel says. Feuilly only responds by burrowing his face in Bahorel's chest. At any other occasion, Bahorel would comment on this unusual sign of affection, but knows better than to do that now. Instead, he puts his arms around Feuilly and tightens the grip until the screaming stops.

A few minutes later he lets go.

“Credits,” he says. Feuilly shakes his head.

“I don't believe you.” But he lifts his head up anyway. He blinks at the screen a few times before looking at Bahorel again, eyes tired.

“Why the hell did I think that would be a good idea? I'm an idiot,” he says.

“Yes, you are,” Bahorel grins. Feuilly rolls his eyes as he gets up from the sofa, stretches, and turns on the light again.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Starving,” Bahorel answers. Feuilly hums in acknowledgement and heads to the kitchen.

“See if there's anything to watch on TV, I'm not gonna be able to sleep if that is the last thing I watch,” Feuilly calls from the kitchen. Bahorel ejects the film from the DVD player again and resists the urge to throw the entire thing out the window. He just buries the DVD underneath a pile of books, willing it to stop existing. He picks up the remote from the floor and channel surfs until Feuilly comes back with food.

“Anything good on?” Feuilly asks, sitting down next to him.

“There's an Always Sunny in Philadelphia-marathon,” Bahorel suggests, laughing. Feuilly huffs.

“Please. Anything but that.”

They settle on an old episode of Criminal Minds, making a competition of guessing who the killer is; A competition they both lose. When they've finished eating, Feuilly leans back against Bahorel again. And Bahorel still knows better than to comment on it. At least that stupid movie was good for something.


End file.
